


Shooting Pool

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Humor, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-02-15
Updated: 1999-02-15
Packaged: 2018-11-10 23:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11136549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: What happens when our boys from the 27th precinct and a certain Mountie gather around a cramped pool table?  (No Victoria, I promise...)





	Shooting Pool

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Shooting Pool

 

****

m/m

relationship implied, no explicit  
sex, rated **PG**  
 ****

WARNING: IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY THE NOTION OF TWO MEN IN A LOVING RELATIONSHIP THAT INCLUDES SEXUAL INTIMACY, **DO NOT READ THIS**.

All characters in this story are the properties of Alliance. This story is intended only for the private entertainment of fans, and may not be reproduced in any form except for this purpose. No profit is made or sought in the writing of this story, nor is it permitted to use this story for any profit-making purposes.

A heartfelt "Thank you kindly" to everybody who have made their stories available on the "net." They have been a source of great inspiration, and I've enjoyed reading them very, very much.

****

Note: This vignette is based on the scene in "Victoria's Secret" where Ray invites his co-workers to his home and they shoot pool in the cramped dining room. It's attached as an epilogue to a longer story I wrote called "Taming Victoria," but I think it can stand on its own. Just forget Victoria and pretend that Ben and Ray are hosting a pool party at Ray's house while Ray's family is away for the week, and it should make sense.

 

 

Shooting Pool

by Irene Pinsent

Welsh leaned against the doorway and glanced at Vecchio and the Mountie. There were five of them, so instead of splitting into teams, they were playing each for himself: whoever sank the most balls will win, regardless of color or order. The cramped space in the dining hall made anything requiring more finesse quite impractical. 

As it was, the Mountie was the only one who had managed to drop a ball so far. Welsh shook his head as it filled with the memory of that crazy shot, which had involved a succession of three balls bumping into each other before a fourth ball rolled into a pocket. When the other four had stared at him in amazement and disbelief, the Mountie had beamed an angelic smile and said, "Well, it's perfectly logical." He had then walked out into the living room, ostensibly to give the others more room, and to help himself to a bite from the deli platter. Vecchio had followed, and the two of them were now standing by the table, talking quietly. 

Welsh took in the tableau. They looked so relaxed, so intimate, together, here in their private space, away from the hustle and bustle of the precinct station. The Mountie said something that made Vecchio laugh, and Vecchio gave the Mountie a friendly shove in the shoulder, but the hand lingered, turning the shove into a half-caress. Welsh swallowed and looked away. In the dining room, Guardino rolled his eyes up at the ceiling after taking yet another totally ineffectual shot, and Huey studied the table trying to figure out if there was any move worth making.

Welsh risked another glance at the two in the living room. Vecchio had taken his hands off the Mountie, but now the two of them were standing side by side, their arms practically touching, and Vecchio was leaning into the Mountie as he said something that made the latter's face twitch in amusement.

Welsh sighed. Whatever was going on between them it seemed that they were making very little effort to conceal it. It hadn't taken him long after he walked in here before he realized that the Mountie was not staying in the guest bedroom. In fact, all of his stuff appeared to be in Vecchio's bedroom, which implied, of course, that that was where he was sleeping... And when, anyway, did a grown man invite a friend over to stay at his home while his family was away?

Huey took his shot, which turned out as ineffectual as Guardino's. He muttered a curse under his breath, then raised his voice toward the living room. "Yo, Ray! Your turn!"

"Coming right up!" Ray yelled back, giving a parting pat to Fraser's arm before turning and walking into the dining room. Welsh shifted a little to let him pass, and found himself looking into the quiet eyes of Fraser, who had followed Ray halfway back toward the dining room. For one long second, his gaze stayed on Welsh, calm, seemingly open, inquisitive. Welsh returned an equally level gaze. Fraser cocked his head a little. "Something I can get you, Leftenant?" he said, gesturing towards the table.

"No thanks, Constable. Think I'll just go over and get some myself," said Welsh, pushing himself out of the doorway.

Behind them, Ray, who had been circling the pool table with short, clipped steps, yelled out, "Yo, Benny! Got any ideas?"

As Welsh made his way toward the buffet, he heard Huey yelling, "Hey, no fair, you aren't allowed to use the Mountie."

He grimaced when he heard Ray retort, "Hey, he's my Mountie, and I'll use him any way I want to."

"Ray, Ray, Ray..." Fraser was saying.

Welsh turned back. "Vecchio, a word with you."

"It's my turn," protested Ray.

"Well, seeing that Constable Fraser here is 'your Mountie,' he is perfectly capable of taking your shot for you, isn't he," Welsh said, pushing Fraser forward toward the pool table. "Come along, Detective," Welsh walked out of the room, gesturing Ray to follow him.

Huey and Guardino looked at each other, then at Fraser. "What's that about?" said Huey.

Fraser shrugged and turned his eyes to study the pool table. "It seems that Lt. Welsh is upset with Ray's comment," he said.

"What, that 'my Mountie' bit?" Guardino asked, gesticulating wildly with his hands. "What's to complain? Everybody knows you are his Mountie."

Fraser shot a quizzical look toward Guardino. Huey chewed his lips as he looked from one to the other. Guardino raised his hands in exasperation. "What," he said.

"Nothing," shrugged Huey. Fraser turned back to the table, lined up a shot, and carefully hit the ball. This time it was a straightforward one, and a ball toppled into another corner pocket.

Fraser raised a nonchalant gaze at the two men looking at him sullenly. "I assure you, given Ray's expertise in pool, that that's the shot he would have taken, and he would have made it."

Guardino rolled his eyes. "Right you are," he said. "You two are so damn close. Might as well be married to each other." He paused, noting the thick silence that had fallen over the room. "What?!" he sputtered.

Huey looked carefully over at Fraser. "You are not um..." he gestured at the air, "are you?"

Fraser stood still, leaning on his pool stick. He considered the pool table, his eyes glancing calculatingly over the balls. "Well... We've been thinking about moving in together," he allowed.

Guardino jerked around. He stared at Fraser as if he were seeing him for the first time. "You... no, you couldn't... if... how... Ohmigod!" Guardino exploded, striding agitatedly back and forth in the cramped space between the pool table and the China cabinet. He pulled at his hair in frustration. "This isn't real, is it? You are pulling my leg, right? Tell me you are pulling my leg!"

Fraser looked so innocent and sincere as he said, "But Louis, how can I possibly reach your leg from here?" that Huey broke down into hysterical laughter.

Upstairs, Welsh closed the door to Ray's bedroom. Glancing around the room, he noted the Mountie's dress uniform boots in a corner, the Stetson on the dresser, his leather jacket on the back of a chair... He sighed. He glanced at the bed, which was at the moment impeccably made, and briefly reflected that he should have picked another place for this chat. Gathering his resolve, he turned towards Ray.

"Vecchio," Welsh began, "What you do with your private life is none of my business, and if I may say so, I am fond of the Mountie, and I wish nothing but well for the both of you."

Ray's eyes widened in surprise. "Thank you, sir," he said simply.

Welsh nodded. "But what affects the force is my business, so I have to ask... How open do you plan to be about this?"

"We don't intent to hide, sir, if that's what you are asking."

"I thought not," said Welsh. He pulled a hand through his hair. "But if I may say so, it will make my life, and yours too, somewhat easier if you don't go around... flaunting it, to the rest of the world, if you see my point."

"I see it perfectly, sir. I guess I did get a little carried away."

Welsh smiled ruefully. "Well, if those two downstairs haven't figured it out already, I must say they don't deserve their badges."

"I would say so, sir."

"Vecchio, you are a good officer, and the Mountie, though he may drive everybody up the wall, is as fine as they come. I'd really hate to have anything happen to either of you, but it's your life, and it's your choice. I..." Welsh hesitated, trying to find the right words, "I wish there were something I could do to make this easier for you, but..." he held up a hand, gesturing to everything else out there.

Ray faced his superior officer and friend, looking straight into his eyes. "You've already done that, sir," he said.

They headed down the stairs and walked into the dining room, to be greeted by Huey's hysterical laughter. Huey had slumped to the floor and was wiping tears from his eyes. Guardino glared at Huey, and Fraser stood by, looking completely innocent.

"Well, what have we got here?" Ray said, as he strode into the room ahead of Welsh. He noticed the second ball in the pocket. "Hey, Benny, you made my shot?" he asked. Fraser nodded. "Hey, good for you, I knew you could do it," said Ray, grabbing Fraser and ruffling his hair, then pinching his cheek for good measure. Guardino eyed them and muttered something under his breath, and Huey dissolved into another round of laughter.

Welsh surveyed his men, none of whom seemed to be acting anything like highly trained, disciplined police officers at the moment. "I think we could all use a drink," he suggested.

"Sure," agreed Ray, letting go of Fraser and heading out towards the kitchen. Huey picked himself up off the floor, and dusting his clothes, moved out into the living room, followed by Guardino, still muttering to himself. Welsh regarded Fraser, who was again studying the pool table.

"Did you plan this, Constable?" Welsh asked.

Fraser raised his head to glance at Welsh before leaning down to the table, positioning his cue to take a shot. "I assure you, sir, that it is a misconception that I plan everything," he replied. A swift, deft stroke of the stick sent the balls careening wildly all over the table, and one dropped into a side pocket, and another came tantalizingly close, teetering on the edge before regaining balance and staying on the table. Welsh raised an eyebrow.

"Benny, you want to help me carry out the beer?" Ray yelled from the kitchen.

"Yes, Ray." Fraser turned away from the table. 

The ball slowly spun, tottered, and fell over the edge.


End file.
